Nico Olvia stood on the edge of the world and watched the apocalypse sail toward her. A wave of fury, hot and sharp, rose in her throat—fury at the World Government for its monstrous hypocrisy, fury at the Navy for being its willing executioners . But beneath the anger was a tide of grief so profound it threatened to drown her. Grief for Ohara, her beautiful, doomed home. And grief for Robin, her daughter, who she had returned to save only to lead her into the heart of the inferno .
The sea was no longer blue. It was a dark, menacing gray, choked with the steel hulls of Navy warships. Ten of them. The most powerful vessels in the World Government's arsenal, forming an iron circle around the island . On their decks, thousands of marines stood ready, their white uniforms a cruel mockery of purity. Five Vice Admirals were out there, five masters of destruction, each commanding a portion of the fleet .
This was the Buster Call. It was not an attack. It was an erasure. A statement, written in fire and blood, that Ohara and all it stood for was now an enemy of the world, a cancer to be burned away . There was no hope. There was no escape.
But Riven refused to believe it. Hope was the one thing he had. That, and a secret that could change the world.
"Aunt Olvia, we can't give up yet!" He tugged on her sleeve, his small voice a stark contrast to the rising thunder of the fleet. "Saul can protect you and Robin! And my friend… he and I can be a diversion! We can draw their fire! Ohara can still survive this!"
Olvia looked down at the boy, and the anger in her eyes softened into a weary, soul-deep sadness. She placed a hand on his head, her touch gentle. "Oh, little one. You have a brave heart," she said softly. "But this is a Buster Call. No matter how powerful your friend is, no one can survive that kind of firepower. There is no hiding from a fire that consumes the sky."
As if to punctuate her words, the warships unleashed their first volley.
It was a probing attack, a ranging shot . A dozen cannonballs screamed through the air, aimed not at the Tree of Knowledge, but at the island's coastline. Perhaps it was a cold, calculated warning. Or perhaps, as Riven knew from the story, it was a moment of mercy from one of the men out there—a Vice Admiral named Kuzan, a man who still clung to a shred of morality .
Just as the shells began their descent, the ground shook. A colossal shadow fell over them, and a voice like an earthquake boomed out.
"Olvia! Riven! Get behind me! NOW!"
Jaguar D. Saul threw himself in front of them, his massive body becoming a living shield. He braced himself, a giant standing defiant against the storm.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The cannonballs slammed into him. The impacts were like thunderclaps, each one sending a shudder through his enormous frame. He grunted in pain, digging his heels into the earth, but he did not fall. He stood as a bulwark of flesh and bone, protecting the two small figures behind him .
But the island itself was not so lucky. The stray shots and explosive blasts from the impacts found their mark. A plume of smoke erupted from the upper floors of the Tree of Knowledge, followed by a bright, hungry tongue of orange flame .
"No!" Olvia cried, her eyes wide with horror. "The library!"
It's started, Riven thought, his heart sinking. The burning of the Tree of Knowledge. The point of no return. We can't just stand here and take it. We have to fight back.
This was it. The moment to act. While Saul and Olvia were horrified and distracted by the sight of the burning library, Riven ducked behind the giant's leg, his face set with grim determination. He cupped his hand over his wrist, hiding the Digivice from view, and whispered the command that would change everything.
"Activate Super Transformation Form!"
The world dissolved in a flash of five-colored light. He shot upward, his body reforging itself into the form of the living legend. When the light faded, the eight-year-old boy was gone. In his place stood Captain America, tall and imposing, the star on his chest a beacon of defiance and the shield on his arm an emblem of unbreakable will.
He stepped out from behind Saul's leg. "Saul! I need a favor!" he called out, his voice now a commanding baritone.
Saul and Olvia spun around. Their eyes went wide with shock. The small boy, Riven, had vanished. In his place stood this impossible figure, a man in a costume that looked like something from a child's heroic fantasy.
"Who… what are you?" Olvia stammered, raising her rifle instinctively. "Another Marine?"
"No," Saul rumbled, his eyes narrowing. "That costume… it's not a uniform I recognize." He looked from the hero to the empty space where Riven had been. "Wait. You… are you the boy's friend? The one who drove off Cipher Pol?"
"Who are you?" Olvia demanded.
The man stood tall, his gaze fixed on the enemy fleet. "Some people," he said, his voice resonating with quiet authority, "call me Captain America."
"'Captain… America'?" Saul repeated the name, searching his memory. As a former Vice Admiral of Marine Headquarters, he knew the name and reputation of every major player on the Grand Line and beyond. This name meant nothing to him. It must be a title, he concluded. A moniker, like 'Whitebeard' or 'Red-Haired'.
"Saul," Captain America said, turning to the giant. "I need you to do something for me. I need you to throw me."
Saul stared at him. "Throw you? Where?"
Captain America pointed with his shield toward the lead warship, its cannons still smoking from the recent volley. "Onto that ship."
There was a moment of stunned silence. Olvia stared at him as if he had lost his mind.
"Are you joking?" Saul asked, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern. "That's a Navy warship, surrounded by nine others! It's a suicide mission!"
Captain America turned and met the giant's gaze. His eyes were clear, steady, and deadly serious.
"Look at my eyes, Saul," he said, his voice unwavering. "I am Captain America. I do not joke about missions." He gestured toward the burning library. "And I am not about to let them burn this world down while I stand here and watch."